


setting fire to our insides for fun (to distract our hearts from ever missing them)

by Ro29



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: (Bruce's), And some sleep, Bruce Wayne is Missing, Damian Wayne is Robin, Delirium, Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick is not handling it well, Dick is trying to do too much and it's hurting him, Dick needs help, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sleep Deprivation, no beta I die like the coward I am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 08:57:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20992163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/pseuds/Ro29
Summary: He's so tired.Bruce will be mad, but it's been too long since he slept and Dick doesn't want to be useless.Batman will take care of it though, and then Dick can apologize.For now, he sleeps.(Bruce is Batman, Bruce is—Bruce is gone.But Dick's brain can't seem to accept that just yet.)





	setting fire to our insides for fun (to distract our hearts from ever missing them)

**Author's Note:**

> :')
> 
> This is set during the time Bruce is gone. Dick is Batman, Damian is Robin and Dick is very tired.
> 
> Title is from 'Youth' by Daughter.
> 
> For the prompt 'Delirium' for whumptober day 3

His breaths are slow. Carefully measured to combat the fast pace of his heart and the blurring of his vision. He couldn’t freak out, not right now. Not here.

This doesn’t, of course, stop the panic from flooding in, and Dick can’t help the rush of frustration that floods through him, he tries to focus on something, _anything_. All he hears is static and that isn’t right that _isn’t **right**_.

Because he had been on the comms before, and he had been talking to other people, but now he can’t hear them and he’s alone and he doesn’t know where or why and his vision is blurring and—.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding, and holds it until his head is lightheaded and black tickles the corners of his blurring vision.

There, right there, on the edges of his hearing. He can hear chatter, he pushes himself up, blinks rapidly.

He’s in a safe house? Maybe?

And his comm is on the ground next to him, okay, yes, right.

His hand is unsteady but that doesn’t matter. He picks the comm up, head feeling fuzzy as he forces his eyes open.

Right okay, no need to panic, nothing’s wrong, just need to grab some gear and go finish rounding up the rest of the escaped Rouges. Yes, okay, he can do that. Then he just needs to go and get to the cave and Bruce will—.

Bruce? Why is that wrong, it’s right, isn’t it? Bruce is Batman and Tim is his Robin and something is wrong with that but why would there be? Why is Dick so rundown, why can’t he _focus, _what’s going on?

Bruce is Batman, Bruce isbatmanBruceisbatmanBruceis—Bruce is—Bruce is bat—Dick is Batman.

He freezes, because Barbara is calling for Batman to respond and telling Dick to respond and that doesn’t, that isn’t.

He isn’t Batman, he isn’t he isn’t—.

“Grayson?”

Who—that’s—who is?

Damian.

Damian, Bruce’s son.

Damian, _his Robin_.

Because Bruce is dead.

And Dick is Batman.

“Here”, he chokes out in response, trying not to sob and trying to focus.

It’s been 83 hours since the Arkham break out and Dick hasn’t slept since 12 hours before that.

95 hours is a long time to be awake.

His eyes won’t stay open.

But he _can’t_ sleep, because he can’t leave Damian alone and there aren’t enough people currently active in Gotham right now, he has to, he has to—.

“Dick!”

He jolts back to himself, mouth cottony and head heavy.

“Yeah?”

Barbara exhales shakily, “You weren’t answering.”

He frowns to himself, “Oh.”

The wall is staring at him accusingly and he sticks his tongue out at it, because _you_ try remembering you’re adopted father is dead and you’re taking care of his assassin ninja son and trying and failing to hold together your family all while having to run around in a bat costume that you never wanted to have to wear. But maybe that was just a nightmare? Yeah, probably, Bruce will want him to check in soon though.

“What?”

Oh, right, Barbara is on comms with him, yeah, but he was thinking that. When’d Barabara become a mind reader?

“You started talking Dick, something about checking in.”

He frowns, “Oh, Sorry, Wall was being mean.”

There’s a bit of quiet and he hums, staring at a blanket and wondering how to get to it without moving from his place on the floor.

“Do you mean Wally?”

He huffs, “No the Wall, had a face.”

Barbara exhales something that sounds like a sob, but he isn’t sure why.

“I’m sending someone over to get you to bed, You can’t help like this, you’ll get yourself killed.”

“Babs I’m—”

“No Dick.” Her voice is steady and forceful, “You—”, her voice cracks the slightest and she clears her throat, “You need to rest okay? You deserve it. You _need_ it.”

He hums, letting his head fall back to the floor.

“Okay, but,” He bites his lip, resting means he can’t finish getting everyone back into Arkham and Bruce will be so disappointed when Dick gets back. “Could you tell Bruce I’m sorry for not being able to get everyone back to Arkham?”

There’s a choking sound over the line and someone who isn’t Babs and might be Tim says, “Sleep, Grayson.”

Babs's voice comes through next, sounding choked “He says it’s fine. Sleep Rob.”

His eyes are already shutting, and his mind is drifting, “‘night” he mumbles.

Distantly he hears Bruce’s grumbled, “G’night chum.”

He smiles, “‘night Br’ce”

**Author's Note:**

> [writing tumblr](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com) and [main tumblr](https://themessofthecentury.tumblr.com)


End file.
